


Dramatis Personæ (The Parts we Play)

by orphan_account



Category: Original - Fandom
Genre: All warnings that go along with A/B/O, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, College, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Offstage Rape, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Unresolved Sexual Tension, finding yourself, highschool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-24
Updated: 2013-04-08
Packaged: 2017-12-03 12:45:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 14
Words: 8,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/698382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>We try because we are human. We fail because it is fate. Nothing can stand against the hands of time. Nothing can last. We live, we create, we destroy, and we start the cycle over. We build so the future will have something to abolish and, out of the ashes, something to create. We build so the future will never feel useless, and we do not build to last. That is the never ending cycle, seen not only over the course of hundreds of years, but echoed in the daily lives of humans.<br/><i>or</i><br/>In which the author has no idea where this is going.<br/><i>or</i><br/>In which the author might be figuring it out.</p><p>
  <b>please note - on hiatus until the end of AP testing. </b>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In Statu Nascendi (In the State of Being Born)

**Author's Note:**

> I've never tried an A/B/O story before, but would love feedback on anything I could improve. The dynamics don't come in to play until ch 2, so keep reading if that's what you're looking for.  
> Also - would love feedback on general writing/grammar/plot. I've been active on figment, but that's actually pretty useless when it comes to getting reads/feedback that isn't 'wow! you're great!'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Un-Beta'd, so all mistakes my own.   
> I'm new, and would love to know how to get someone to Beta.

The baby entered the world in the usual way, with screaming and blood. She was created (life from life, flesh from flesh) and in her creation the cycle continued. The screaming, however, was not her own. It belonged to the girl who was flat on her back with no one to hold her hand as she underwent an ordeal that modern society did not think acceptable for one so young, no matter what their ancestors had thought. They had destroyed that practice as time had stuttered forward.  


The girl was beautiful, in a broken and abandoned way. Black ringlets that fluttered like ravens wings, grey eyes that seemed both terribly innocent and impossibly ancient at the same time. Her daughter shared her inky locks, but surveyed the world through solemn green eyes. The mother, a scholar even at this moment, reflected on probability of a child having the green eye mutation.  


“Congratulations.” The doctor smiled, unsure how to deal with the silence that now pervaded the room. Mother and daughter surveyed each other cautiously. “I don’t suppose you want to fill out the birth certificate?” The mother sighed, frustrated that the doctor was also convinced she wanted to give the child up.  


“I do, actually.” The doctor blushed, a brilliant red that spread from his hair line to his collar. Her handwriting matches her, graceful and pointed and a little rushed. Ophelia Reynolds, mother. Unknown, father. Nivial Reynolds, child.  


“What an unusual name.” The nurse commented, glancing at the girl who was still too young to have read “Hamlet” in class, no matter what her name was.  


“It means something that grows in the snow.” The girl informed her glancing up from feeding Nivial.  


“You decided to bottle feed, hmm?” The woman asked, watching as Ophelia attempted to get the baby to take the bottle.  


“My school requires babies in the nursery to be bottle fed.” Ophelia looked at the delicate thing she held in her arms, who was now sucking contentedly on the bottle. The nurse watched the pair, monochromatic against the pale pink walls and soft green sheets. Mother and daughter sat silently, fair skinned, black haired, and disturbingly intelligent. A sharp knock resounded through the room. The woman jumped. The girl remained silent. The knock sounded again.  


“Are you going to see who that is?”  


“It’s an agent from an adoption agency.” Ophelia frowned. “I’ve already said I’m not interested.” The nurse left sighing, the agent pushed past her, seizing the opportunity. His starched jeans practically creaked as he sat, removing the cowboy hat from his head.  


“Miss Reynolds.” He smiled.  


“I’m not interested.”  


“Young lady, you’re fifteen. You don’t know - ” Ophelia’s head snapped up. Her eyes contained loathing.  


“I don’t know what? What I want? How to take care of myself? How to watch a child? Don’t you dare,” her voice started to shake. “Don’t you dare tell me what I do and do not know. I might be young, but I have - ” She broke off.  


“Miss Reynolds,” he began again, soflty.  


“Get out.” She spat. “I’m not putting my child up for adoption.” The man stumbled to his feet, almost running to the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback always appreciated!


	2. Ab Abusu ad Asum non Valet Consequentia (Rights Abused are Still Righs)

Ophelia returned to school exactly two weeks after giving birth to her daughter. Everyone stopped as she climbed the steps to the ancient double doors, the small figure of her daughter pressed to her chest. Her feet followed the unfamiliar path to the large, bright room that housed the nursery.  


“Are her shots up to date?” Asked a woman Ophelia had never seen before. Ophelia handed over the necessary paperwork. Other girls swarmed around her, chatting familiarly as they dropped their children off. There were black children with their thick, textured hair, Mexican babies with their thin eyes that seemed almost Asian, caramels that clung to African girls who kissed them before setting them down. Nivial was the only white child. Ophelia the only white mother. She could feel the nurse sizing her up after going over the paperwork, the obnoxious ‘unknown’ that filled the father slot on the birth certificate. Ophelia knew the statistics for underage pregnancies, that African-American’s were the most likely to keep the children, while Asians were the least likely to get pregnant in the first place. That white girls, especially urban white girls (the statistics changed in rural areas where most girls planned on settling down with their high school sweet hearts and playing house) where the least likely to keep the children they had. Unbonded omegas almost always put the children up for adoption.  


“Thank you.” The woman smiled sadly, forming opinions about the slight girl in front of her. Ophelia nodded and walked away.

It was lunch when he approached her. She was sitting in the library, reading because she was no longer required to eat and provide nutrients for a fetus. Her legs were curled to her chin as she idly flipped the pages, lost in a world of words. He clamped a heavy hand on her shoulder.  


“I can be good to you.” He whispered in her ear. His breath smelled like the cheap food they served in the cafeteria. She tried to squirm away, but he held her pinned. “I’ve got offers already, full rides even.” He nuzzled the side of her neck. She swatted him away.  


“No.”  


“What do you mean? You can’t plan to raise her by yourself. What type of life will you give her? I thought you’d abort, or put her up for adoption. If you want to keep her you’ll have to provide for her.”  


“You will not be a part of her life. You’re not even on her birth certificate.” She swallowed. “Why would I let you be a part of her life after what you did?”  


“I’m her father, you bitch. You can’t keep me out of her life.” His hands were squeezing, bruising now.  


“Watch me. I skipped two grades and live on my own. Everyone said I couldn’t do that either.”  


“Last time you told me you could do something, you couldn’t.” He leaned close to her, whispering. She remained silent, now limp under his hands. “Now, what you’re going to do after school is go to the court house and tell them you have a change to make on the birth certificate. You’re going to put my name where it belongs, and pick up bonding paper work.”  


“No.” Ophelia remained still under his hands. “You will not be my child’s father; I will not be your bonded. I don’t give a crap what society thinks about unbounded omegas as parents. I don’t give a crap what society thinks period.” She turned to face him. “You only want to bond me because you feel obligated to watch out for me. It’s just your biology. You would hate living with me, and I would hate living with you.” Her eyes searched his.  


“I can think of a way to make it enjoyable.” He murmured, releasing a wave of pheromones. Ophelia felt herself relax backwards, wanting to sink into the pleasant alpha warmth. She didn’t hear the footsteps of the beta librarian who timidly approached them.  


“This is a library,” her voice was meek. “You’ll need to take that somewhere else.” Ophelia snapped out of the haze.  


“He was just leaving.”  


“No, I wasn’t.” He growled. Ophelia stood, slipping his hands from her slim shoulders.  


“Then I was.” She hurried from the room, shedding the haze that infiltrated her mind with each step. She didn’t stop until the library was out of sight. She was leaning on the wall, taking great gasping breaths when a thought wormed its way into her mind. Nivial. What if he went to see her? To take her? The omega side of her rushed to the nursery, nearly knocking the nurse over to see her child.  


Nivial blinked unworriedly at her mother. Brilliant green eyes seemed to say ‘Why are you being silly?’ Ophelia laughed, a sharp, broken sound. The nurse patted her on the shoulder, telling her it was normal for omegas to feel separation anxiety, why didn’t she just sit down for a moment? Ophelia shrugged her off, took a deep breath, and went back to class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback always appreciated!


	3. Damnatio Memoriae (Damnation of Memory)

Ophelia sorted through the mail one handed, balancing Nivial as she climbed the stairs to her apartment. She turned the lock on her apartment door, as futile as the gesture now felt. The new wood of the door and frame were a sharp reminder of what an angry Alpha could do, especially a football player. A football player who could get full rides off that fact alone, forget lack of intelligence.

                “Husha hush.” She smiled at Nivial, who started to fuss when set down. The mail was mostly nonsense. A letter from her social worker, congratulating her. A letter from NYU, asking if, given recent developments, she would still be attending the come fall. The rent was due. A letter from the court, asking (once again) if she needed bond paperwork.  She chucked it all in the trash before heating a bottle on the stove.  A sharp knock sounded on the door. Ophelia froze for a moment, irrational fear coursing through her. The last time someone had knocked on the door with short, official tones hadn’t ended well for her.

                _“Miss Reynolds?” The officer called through the door. “Would you please open up?” Ophelia hobbled to the door, wrapped in only a checkered flannel gown against the chilly air._

_“Officer?” She asked, face turned down. She could tell this man was an Alpha before looking at him; could smell the harsh metallic tang of dominance. He pushed his way into the small apartment._

_“We’ve had a report of disturbance of the peace from the neighbors a couple days ago. Said you were screaming at the top of your lungs. You never called, so the precinct thought someone should come out”. Ophelia looked at him, displaying a black eye and finger marks around her throat._

_“I - ” she faltered. “I was in heat. An Alpha from my school showed up. I didn’t want him to - ” The officer already looked bored._

_“Your neighbors said that’s what they though was happening.” He made a note on his clipboard. “Goodnight, Miss Reynolds.”_

_“Aren’t you going to do something?” She pleaded, hating how broken she sounded._

_“You haven’t filed any bonding paperwork, so unless you need some there isn’t much I can do. It was entirely in his right.” He took one last look around, as if saying ‘so this is where the scum lives’. “Goodnight, Miss Reynolds.” The look he gave her said ‘So this is the scum.’_

_“Goodnight, Officer.”_

                “Ophelia!” Her landlord yelled. She pulled the bottle off the stove and picked Nivial up.

                “Coming!” The walk from the kitchen at the back of the apartment to the front door was short. All too soon Ophelia was staring at the man whose breath stank of sour liquor and whose beer gut bulged obscenely over the edge of his pants. He was a beta, and smelt of motor oil with a touch of wet dirt. “Yes?” she struggled to keep her voice pleasant.

                “Rent's due and past.” His voice was short and sharp.

                “Yes, sorry.” She smiled. Ophelia knew her landlord was slightly uncomfortable dealing with this new facet of her. Before she had simply been a school girl, too young to live properly on her own but doing it anyway. A school girl who was uncommonly smart and a little too fragile to properly be a beta, but he could pretend. Now she was obviously an Omega. “Just let me get it.”

                “I can come back later.”

                “No, no. It’s fine. I know I set it down somewhere,” she trailed off, looking around the living room. “Here it is.” She smiled handing it to him.

                “Try not to be late again.” He sighed. She kept smiling, and closed the door. Alone, she could remind herself how much she hated this apartment. The walls, only bright and clean because she painted them herself. The carpet, worn and ugly. The furniture, old and secondhand. It was a college student’s apartment, the apartment of someone trying to get on their feet in the middle of a big city. It was the apartment of an underage Omega who got barely above minimum wage and refused to talk to her father.

                Nivial started to squirm, done with her bottle. Her mother sighed and patted her back, watching the mild baby, who smelled wonderfully of nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The way I describe scents (in which everyone has a distinct and describable scent) is taken from Gordian, http://archiveofourown.org/works/399650/chapters/657865, which was my first A/B/O fic.  
> As always, feedback appreciated!  
> 8)


	4. Damnum Absque Injuria (To Damage Without Injury)

Nivial was two months old when the nurse asked Ophelia to stay after until they could talk. Ophelia sat on a low stool, glaring at the cartoon monkeys and lions that art students had decorated the walls with, a corny layer on top of the bright primary colors that were starting to chip and fade. The linoleum was colored with cheerful rugs. Lost in her own thoughts, she didn’t notice the strong Alpha scent (fresh mown grass and lightning storms) associated with Travis.  


“Ophelia.” He growled, standing over her. She felt her blood turn to ice.  


“Travis.” She met his eyes defiantly, fear turning in her stomach. He was wearing the same shirt he had worn the night he came to her apartment, fueled with Alpha rage. He backhanded her, knocking her from her perch. His boots were the same as well. Nivial started to whimper, watching from inside a wooden crib.  


“Stop.” The Nurse said, helping Ophelia to her feet. Ophelia glared at the woman. ‘Traitor.’ She thought. “Ophelia, Travis has some serious accusations to make. I thought you should be here for them.” The beta licked her lips nervously, her faint scent (lilies) becoming more pronounced.  


“That’s my child.” He pointed to Nivial. “That’s my bonded.” He pointed to Ophelia, making his claim easily.  


“No!” Ophelia practically shrieked. “We’re not bonded. We never bonded.” She was close to sobbing. Nivial started to scream, sensing her mother’s distress.  


“Someone shut that thing up.” Travis growled, whirling to face the baby. Ophelia tossed herself between the two. The nurse hurried to the crib.  


“Please.” She murmured, head down. “Please calm down.” She held her hands at waist level and allowed him to advance to wrap his hands around her wrists before hoisting them over her head. He easily held both wrists in one hand, and began to back her up until her back hit the wall.  


“You smell so good.” He growled, pressing her into the wall. Ophelia had always thought her own scent (which could really only be described as sunshine) a bit mundane, but allowed him to lick and suck her neck. The nurse cleared her throat. Travis whirled, angry once again.  


“What’s important right now is that if Nivial is Travis’s daughter” she stressed the if, “then you have no legal claim to her. The law states that in the case of unbounded pregnancy, the child goes to the Alpha. Every time.”  


“But he doesn’t want her.” Ophelia pleaded, grey eyes wide.  


“But I do want you.” He smirked. Ophelia felt her world come crashing around her. “And I might not be as smart as you, or as clever, but I do know how to call my lawyer and tell him to file a law suit.” Ophelia looked to the nurse, who shrugged.  


“You could have any Omega. Why me?” It was true. He was the captain of the football team (a big deal in the heart of Texas), came from an oil family, and was the most recent of a long line of Alphas and Omegas. The chance of one of his children being a beta was virtually nonexistent. He was a catch, but Ophelia didn’t want to bond. She wanted a life and career of her own. The monkeys on the wall laughed at her.  


“You’re the valedictorian. You’re classy and smart.” He pushed her back into the wall. “I might not have been your first, but at least when I’m fucking you I don’t have to wonder which of my friends you spent your last heat with, or smell anyone else on your skin when I kiss you.”  


“But you can have anyone.” Tears welled in her eyes.  


“But I want you.” He claimed her mouth in a punishing kiss. It was teeth and tongue, intended to show dominance.  


What do I have to do?” she asked, head bowed again. He released her wrists. The red of his fingers was already beginning to fade.  


“You can come to dinner.” He smirked. “And wear something nice. I’ll pick you up at six.”  


“I don’t have a sitter.”  


“Bring the kid; my parents would love to meet her.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback always appreciated!


	5. Decus et Tutamen (An ornament and a Safeguard)

Ophelia was waiting obediently when he knocked on her door. She was dressed nicely, as specified. Her hair had been blow dried to a glossy shine, her make up expertly applied. She might not bother normally, but she knew how.  


“This place is still shitty.” Travis said, looking around. Ophelia said nothing.  


_“How do you live here?” Travis growled, in the brief reprieve between rounds. Ophelia said nothing, just curled farther in on herself. For a moment the room was another room in another house. Travis was – His hands threaded around her throat, pulling her into the present.  
_

_“Yes?” her voice was strained.  
 ___

_“Pay attention to me when I’m talking to you.”  
_

“Did you hear anything I just said?” His angry voice jolted her out of the memory.  


“Sorry, what?” She asked distractedly. The cheap cabinet doors jumped when Travis drove a fist into them.  


“Pay attention to me when I’m talking to you.” He growled. “I asked if you had a car seat.”  


“Yes.” The girl whispered, picking up the gurgling baby.  


“Get her in it. Come on.” He stood in the door way, filling the apartment with an angry feeling that made it hard for the Omega in her to function. He snarled after she dropped the buckles for the third time.  


“Please calm down,” Ophelia whispered, looking up at him from where she knelt. Tears started to leak from her eyes. She wiped at them, frustrated and not knowing where they were coming from. “I – I can’t do anything when you’re like that.” Her hands continued to shake. He picked the seat up and buckled the baby in himself.  


“Come on.” He said again, voice gentler as he struggled to control his instincts. 

  


He lived surprisingly far for someone who went to an inner city school.  


“I wanted to play 5A football.” He shrugged when questioned. The house was nice. Gated community nice. The lots were large. It was the type of place an Alpha who had to travel would feel comfortable leaving his Omega. They got larger and more impressive the farther back they drove, and Travis’s family lived in the very back. Ophelia wondered if this was the type of life she was about to lead, where she would constantly be watched and protected, never truly allowed to experience life as it flashed past.  


“We’re here.” He announced, looking at her. She started to unbuckle Nivial, suddenly very aware that all her clothes had been bought at thrift shops. He held her hand as he led her inside.  


“Mother! We’re here!” Inside was just as formidable as outside. Soft beige walls blended almost seamlessly into hard wooden floors. Travis helped her out of her coat and hung it on one of many pegs that traveled the length of the hall.  


“Kitchen darling!” A masculine voice called back. Travis held Nivial as he led her to meet his parents. Ophelia blinked in surprise. For some reason she had expected Travis to have a female Omega as a mother, and an Alpha male as a father. She was half right. The man who was obviously his mother kissed him on the cheek with hands full of silver ware. “I’m just finishing up.” He said, warmth evident in his smile. “Would you be a dear and set these out?” Ophelia took the silver and followed Travis to the dining room. His father simply watched.  


“You look surprised.” He said, holding Nivial and watching Ophelia set the silverware out.  


“I thought you would have come from a more - ” she pauses to think of the proper word “-traditional family set up.”  


“Most people think so too.” He grinned. The dining room was similar to the rest of the house, cool colors and tasteful accents. Ophelia’s mind wandered back to whether or not this would be her future, designing rooms and raising babies. She watched Travis hold Nivial, cradling her like it was something he was born to do. It was something he was born to do, she realized. He was designed to protect and provide.  


Dinner progresses as she turns that fact over in her mind. It’s one of the first things Omega’s are taught, that Alphas are there to keep them safe; that they’re fragile and need an Alpha. His parents (who refuse to be called Mr. & Mrs. McCafery and insist on James and Paul) love Nivial. They love Ophelia and share knowing glances as they watch their son watch her when she isn’t looking. ‘Travis is in love with her.’ They think, smiling as their fingers twine under the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated!


	6. Dis Aliter Visum (It seemed Otherwise to the Gods)

Travis comes to her house the next time her heat rolls around, a month after dinner with his parents. Three months after Nivials’ birth. Bonding is sharp and painful and a little scary, even high on pheromones. The raised mark on the back of her neck will never go away. She is his, bound by forces even the greatest scientific minds have failed to understand. Ophelia thinks about the probability of her birth control failing as he fucks her, thinks about the biology behind the way an Omegas body prepares its self for heat, whether the Omega wants it or not. When science is lost she thinks about tea in one of the clean white mugs she keeps in the kitchen, about needing to repaint the cupboards. About how she’ll probably be leaving this apartment soon. 

As he knots her and bites her she thinks about the letter she’ll have to send to NYU, thanking them and explaining her circumstances have changed. She wonders if Travis will let her study Biology, like it’s her dream to. She wonders if Travis will let her study at all, or if he’ll want her to play house, like one of the rural girls in the statistics that make so much sense to her. She wonders and thinks because she refuses to become mindless, no matter what biology demands or society thinks. She will overcome it. 

  


“I wonder what you think about, when your eyes go far away.” Travis whispers as Ophelia sleeps. Heat has come and gone, leaving a sudden feeling of fullness where he hadn’t realized something was missing. Now he couldn’t imagine living without it. “I wonder what makes your eyes light up, when you’re lost in one of your books. I wish - ” he sighs “I wish I could make your eyes sparkle like that, like they do when you explain Chemistry to a sophomore who’s struggling, or talk about poetry with your friends. I wish you would have just been mine, and that I didn’t have to hurt you.” He watches her pale form curl into his side, seeking warmth in the cold room. “I wish I was what you wanted in an Alpha. I wish I was captain of the Debate team, so I could argue intelligently with you when you feel catty. I wish I had never tried out for football, so I could have spent my time learning to be smart and good with people, instead of acting entitled and crude. I wonder what I could do to make you love me the way I love you.” He smiled. “If this was a movie, you would open your eyes and tell me you heard everything I just said. You would tell me you love me.” Ophelia’s eyes remained shut. She nuzzled his side a little more. He smiled, petting her tousled hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback appreciated.


	7. Sic Infit (So it Begins)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! When I started this I didn't expect it to get quiet so long quiet so fast. I didn't expect it to get long period. (eleven pages in two days 8])I know the whole thing is, at this point (2/25/13), dialogue centered with a little bit of reaction thrown in (and thus a bit boring probably), but it's officially a 'Rough Draft' of something longer and I'm just trying to get the plot out before it escapes me. Please, feel free to comment on any thing you think ought to improved, whether you think the setting is strange or the characters a bit one dimensional. Or if you think my writing's just awful and I desperately need to rethink what I do with my free time (and time that isn't so free) you can say that too.
> 
> I'll also say that the entire thing was meant to be a drabble written in the same style as the first couple paragraphs and the summary (the summary was originally a part of the story). We're reading Mrs. Dalloway in English, and while I've written like that before (see "I Need to Believe" if interested), it's never been something longer than a paragraph or two. It was never supposed to be A/B/O and it was never supposed to be about Ophelia (hence the little thought put into her name). It was supposed to be a one shot about Nivial and her life growing up with a teen mother who was... idk really. A runaway? A hooker? It obviously didn't go there. So this story is what happened. It's constantly changing, even from what I think it's going to be (at ch 2 I thought she'd go to NYU and maybe fall in love, maybe invent a heat supressent, maybe be forced to bond with someone who was not Travis (never thought I'd name him until I did because he was suddenly important)). So I think the point is that I'm worried this story seems strange and random because at this point that's what it is. Plot is just kind of happening (or failing to happen) as I write. 
> 
> Please, please, please give feedback as to what you think is going on, not only so I know what needs to be made clearer, but because I need to see where people think this is going.

The first day back from Heat, they were ushered into the AP office by the assistant principal. The councilor smiled happily at them. She was an Omega (sandalwood and lemon grass). 

“Congratulations on your bonding.” Her smile was a little strained. “There are a few things that need to be gone over.” Ophelia squirmed in her seat, unable to get comfortable. Travis rested a hand on her knee. 

“Such as?” He asked, his smile all teeth. He knew who was going to dictate how things ended. 

“Course schedules first.” The Omega (her name plate read Mrs. Intion) blushed, coloring filling her cheeks. “It’s traditional for an Omega to move into her Alphas classes, but not necessary.” Ophelia looked at Travis, watching his facial expression. He remained mute. 

“I want to stay in my Honors courses.” Ophelia volunteered softly, preparing to be told no. Travis growled protectively. “But I’ll move.” She hastily added, swallowing. Tears began to fill her eyes as she looked submissively at her lap. She wiped at them, angry with her body and emotions for betraying her. Travis rumbled again, pulling her into his lap. She nestled into his chest, feeling safe despite herself. 

“Perhaps you could share why, Ophelia?” The Omega clearly didn’t care what Ophelia had to say on the subject. 

“I still want to be valedictorian.” She admitted, voice half muffled by Travis’s shirt. 

“Ophelia.” Mrs. Intion admonished. Travis glared at her before turning his attention to his bonded, who had tucked her head farther, turning so she didn’t have to see the older Omega. 

“Look at me.” He said, voice soft. He cupped his fingers under her chin, turning her face until she looked him in the eye. “Would it make you happy?” She nodded wordlessly. “Then you can.” 

“It’s highly irregular - ” The councilor spluttered. 

“But not unheard of.” Travis finished for her. “I’ll move into her classes if I have to.” 

“You’re grades to this point - ” 

“Were from before I had the valedictorian to tutor me.” He cut her off. “She can stay in her classes by herself, or I can be moved into them.” His tone announced the finality of the decision. 

“I’ll print your new schedule.” The Omega smirked. 

“What’s next?” Travis deadpanned, allowing Ophelia to crawl back into her seat. 

“Have you informed your college of your bonding? That you’ll be bringing an Omega and a child?” 

“No.” Travis looked like he hadn’t considered college. 

“That’s the next step.” Mrs. Intion informed him smugly. Ophelia mad a small noise in the back of her throat. “What?” The woman demanded, exasperated. 

“Will I be able to continue my studies?” 

“Young lady, you need to resign yourself to your lot in life. You are a bonded Omega with a child. You’re not going to peruse a degree and a career.” 

“We haven’t discussed that, actually.” Travis rumbled. 

“It’s highly irregular - ” 

“I don’t give a damn.” Travis roared, tipping his chair backwards as he stood. “I didn’t grow up in a household where my father had to completely dominate my mother, and I see no reason why I should deprive Ophelia of her life’s dream.” He stood panting, glaring at the cowering Omega. Ophelia righted his chair and pressed him back into it, climbing once more into his lap. 

“Shh.” She murmured, pressing kisses into his neck and collarbone. The color drained from his face. His arms tightened around her small waist, pulling her closer. 

“I’m sorry.” He gritted out. 

“Yes, well,” Mrs. Intion straightened her glasses, “I know money is no object, but Ophelia is looking at NYU and you’re looking at Ole’ Miss.” 

“I can go to Ole’ Miss.” Ophelia injected quickly. “I’d be happy to go.” 

“But your dream is to go north.” Travis whispered in her ear. 

“But your dream is to play ball at Ole’ Miss.” She whispered back, confused. He sighed, wishing she would understand he didn’t want to take her dreams from her. “I’ll just be happy to get to study.” 

“Fine.” He snapped. Ophelia cringed. “I’ll email them when I get home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, Feedback appreciated!


	8. Malum Discordiae (Apple of Discord)

Her teachers (mostly Alpha’s themselves) took Travis in stride, accepting that for two months they would have this Alpha who barely made a B average without tutoring in regular classes. It seemed they understood his need to protect and watch while also making sure she was happy. They allowed the couple to whisper back and forth as Ophelia tried to explain things to Travis. English, Spanish, and Chemistry passed all too quickly before the bell for lunch rang. 

Ophelia packed her things slowly, watching Travis warily. He grabbed her hand once she had shouldered her messenger bad, his grip tight like he thought she might try to run away. 

“Cafeteria.” He informed her, knowing her habit of skipping meals. 

“I’m not - ” She protested without thinking. He gripped her hand tighter. She swallowed and allowed him to pull her down the nearly empty hallways. 

The noise level in the cafeteria dropped noticeably, students and teachers alike straining to see the odd couple. The Omega who swore she would never bond and the Alpha who could have had any Omega but chose a moody, petulant one. Ophelia shrank closer to his side, not used to people paying attention to her. Travis pulled her to the front of the line, eyes daring someone to complain. 

Ophelia blinked helplessly at the lunch lady, who finally rolled her eyes and plopped spaghetti on her tray. The sauce was garish against the Styrofoam. Travis payed for both lunches before leading her to his regular table. Two freshman quickly vacated seats when he glared. Ophelia found herself surrounded by unbounded couples. Athletes and wealthy (often both in the cases of the Alphas) blinked at her ratty, secondhand appearance before returning to their conversations. She couldn’t help but wonder who used to sit where she was now sitting. Who had she displaced? 

“So Ophelia?” One of the Omegas asked. It was another senior. A cheerleader, Ophelia thought, taking in the bouncing ponytail on top of her head and the silver megaphone charm around her neck. A gift from an Alpha, Ophelia realized. It wasn’t nice enough for her parents to of bought it for her and didn’t match the jewelry she picked out for herself. She preferred gold. She smelt warm and safe, like cotton. Ophelia almost missed the question. “What was it like, bonding?” The conversation instantly hushed, the table waiting to see what she said. Travis squeezed her knee before threading his fingers through hers. 

“I don’t really remember.” Ophelia admitted softly, twirling her fork through her almost untouched pasta. “All I know is that when it was done it felt like I had found a piece of myself that had been lost so long I didn’t even know it was missing.” Ophelia surprised herself, not only with the words, but the honesty behind them. 

“That’s heat for you.” An Alpha joked, grinning at the Omega to his left. The boy blushed in response. “You don’t remember much of anything.” 

“What’s it like being a mother?” The boy asked shyly. Ophelia struggled to remember his name. She had tutored him before. He was a sophomore, pretty sharp, just struggling a little. His scent was surprisingly masculine, Basil and Thyme. 

“Wonderful.” Ophelia admitted, shocking herself once again. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything.” Travis was watching her carefully, weighing each of her words. 

”I don’t think I could do it.” The final Omega admitted, hands fluttering. “Keep going to classes I mean.” She smiled, chewing her lip. I would just be so worried about my baby.” The Alpha next to her patted her shoulder. 

“How do you handle it Ophelia?” He asked. Ophelia felt a nervous shudder run through her. She needed her child, needed to hold Nivial immediately. 

“I need to go.” She gasped, running from the rom. The cafeteria fell silent, watching Travis stand slowly and follow her out.

  


The nurse let him in the room she had ushered the frantic Ophelia. It was a panic room for Alphas and Omegas, dimly lit and padded in soft white cushions. Ophelia huddled in the corner, looking at the world through fearful eyes. She went stiff when she saw Travis holding Nivial. 

“Ophelia.” Travis murmured soothingly. “You have to calm down. I can’t give you Nivial until you’re calmer.” Ophelia took deep, shuddering breaths. 

“Do they think I’m a bad mother?” She asked tearfully, when she had regained the ability to speak. Travis sat next to her and handed her Nivial. She crawled into his lap, holder her child. “Am I a bad mother?” 

“No, no darling.” Travis stroked her hair. “They admire you. You’re so strong.” Ophelia nestled closer. 

I’m trying so hard.” Travis could feel the frantic tattoo her heart was beating. “I never wanted a baby, a bonded. I wanted to be more than just another Omega. I wanted to do something great.” 

“Ophelia.” Travis choked out. Each of her words cut him like knife. 

“I didn’t want this.” Tears started streaming down her face again. The scent of distressed Omega filled the room, sharp and bitter. “Why did you do this to me? What did I ever do to you?” She sobbed. “What did I do?” 

“I’m sorry.” Travis whispered. “I’m sorry.” He repeated it over and over, a prayer that lulled her, still sobbing, to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback appreciated!


	9. Subsiste Sermonem Statim (Stop Speaking Immediately)

They had been living in Ophelia’s apartment for two months when Travis brought up the finding a new one as Ophelia cooked dinner. 

“Why bother?” Ophelia asked. Her apartment, while small, was adequate. “We graduate in two months and move to Mississippi in five.” 

“This place is still crappy.” Travis had replaced the carpet with wood laminate and the thrift store furniture with IKEA. 

“It’s five months. It would take a month to find a place and move in. Besides,” she reasoned, “here we’re still close to the school, downtown, and a market. Plus the neighbor can watch Nivial.” Travis couldn’t dispute that when he had, more than once, taken advantage of that fact and taken Ophelia shopping. Her clothes, while not designer or frilly, were nicer than those she used to wear. She looked better, in clothes that fit and flattered. Her hair had been cut and shaped professionally, and framed her face prettily. He had added soft, muted colors to her wardrobe, bringing her out of monochrome. Where she could have once passed as a Beta from a distance, she was now undeniably an Omega. 

“Dinner?” He asked hopefully. It smelled good. 

“Stir Fry. Give it five minutes.” She laughed. Nivial started to whimper in her play cot. “Will you watch this? I think she’s wet.” Travis moved to the stove, watching as Ophelia bent over to pick Nivial up, tank top sliding to reveal the smooth, milky skin of her back. She cooed and grinned at Nivial, who returned the gesture and laughed. At times like this Travis felt the need to protect rise in his throat until he couldn’t breathe. 

“You’re getting so big!” Ophelia exclaimed, picking the four month old up and checking her diaper. The Omega was emitting a happy sense of happiness so potent the Alpha in him relaxed for the first time in weeks. It was so atypical of the moody girl who silently resented him, even after two months. “Travis?” Ophelia called over her shoulder. 

“Hmmm?” 

“Food’s burning.” She laughed. 

“Crap.” 

  


“You’re getting better.” Travis told her, smiling around his fork. Ophelia had been a terrible cook, and they had spent the first few weeks living on take out. When Travis asked how someone so good at Chemistry could be so bad a cooking, he had received a five minuet lecture about how Chemistry and Cooking were not the same thing. 

“Thanks.” Her portion was less than half gone. 

“Eat.” He said gently. She glared at him. 

“I’m not hungry.” She sounded like a petulant child. Travis had noticed how much weight she had lost recently, she was already below pre-pregnancy. 

“You’re not eating enough.” His tone left no room for argument. 

“I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.” She retorted cruelly. 

“Obviously you can’t.” He snapped back. “Stop acting like a child, you have a child of your own to think about.” 

“I took care of myself for years before I got stuck with you.” She screamed, standing. “I still can.” Her plate shattered on the wall behind him. She stood glaring, her chest heaving. 

“I’m taking Nivial and going out.” He told her, standing slowly. “I’ll come back when I think you can control yourself.” 

“God damn you.” She threw herself at him, fists pummeling his chest. He caught her wrists and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. 

“Stop.” He told her, his voice deathly still. She refused, twisting and turning in his grasp until she broke free. 

“Fuck you.” She threw herself at him again, clawing at his face. Travis knew he couldn’t dismiss this type of behavior. It was unacceptable for an Omega to choose to disobey a direct order from their Alpha. 

“Ophelia, I’m telling you to stop, now.” He was clinging to some small part of him that refused to punish her, but was quickly losing control. He could feel his heart speed up, his brain going fuzzy. 

“I hate you.” She was bashing his chest again, putting her entire being each hit. “I hate you.” Something inside Travis snapped. He slapped her with enough force to nearly knock her over, shocking her into silence. 

“I have been patient with you, Ophelia.” He said each word carefully. “I have tried to be understanding and kind. I have not forced you to do anything you didn’t want to do. But your behavior tonight has gone too far.” He slammed her into the wall, his actions disjointed from the calmness in his voice. 

“Travis.” She whispered, understanding the gravity of her actions. He held a finger to her lips. She quiets, the need to survive over riding her sense of independence. 

“Tonight you disobeyed a direct order.” Travis’s scent flooded the room, forcing Ophelia boneless. She sags against the wall and lets him talk, waiting for the other shoe to fall. “I have tried to understand this - ” he pauses to find the right word “rebellion of yours, but tonight was too much too far.” Ophelia tilted her head down, a universal sign of submission. “I’m going to the restroom. When I come back, expect you to be kneeling in front of the couch, waiting for me.”


	10. Pede Poena Claudo (Punishment Comes Slowly)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been forever in coming, and I'm sorry. I caught the flu while in Manhattan and spent the past week sleeping. But here it is, enjoy. 8)

_“We need to talk about Ophelia.” Travis’s dad said one Saturday night. Travis eyed him warily._

_“Look I’m good to her, really.” He heard the desperate note in his voice._

_“That’s it.” His dad smiled sadly. “What your mother and I had was different than what you and Ophelia have. We were both adults making an educated decision. Ophelia is a child, and she’s acting like one. This is a dangerous path you two are walking. Sometimes an Alpha needs to be strict.”_

Ophelia heard Travis’s footsteps echoing through the house, heard the door open and close. She briefly thought of leaving, opening the window and sneaking down the fire escape. She had done it before, when the rent was past due and she didn’t want to run into her landlord. Her hand went to her cheek feeling the bruise that was beginning to form. It had been so easy to forget Travis was her Alpha, so easy to forget defying him was illegal. So easy to forget that if Travis decided she was too much trouble he would leave her and take Nivial. That she would be sent to a processing facility for ill-behaved Omegas. That she would be forced to bond with somebody who would not be afraid to control and punish. It had been so easy to forget. 

“Ophelia.” His voice was soft. She looked up from her position, kneeling in front of the couch like specified. 

“Yes?” Her voice trembled. 

“Yes sir.” He corrected gently. 

“Yes sir.” She parroted. He sat on the couch shifting so she knelt between his legs. 

“I want us to talk about why you’re being punished. Can you tell me why I’m punishing you?” 

“I disobeyed.” She eyed the worn striped cloth that covered the couch. “I threw a plate.” She swallowed. “I yelled at you, sir.” 

“Why is this wrong?” Travis asked, cupping his fingers under her chin and forcing her to look him in the eye. The clock on the wall ticked steadily. 

“Because you’re my Alpha, sir.” 

“More than that. There’s a better reason for what you did being wrong.” 

“I - ” Ophelia swallowed again, refusing to cry. “It was illegal?” 

“Are you asking me or telling me?” Travis felt a sinking in his stomach. 

“Telling, sir.” 

“Still wrong.” Her eyes flickered with fear, then confusion. “What you did was wrong because you refuse to take care of yourself, and when given instructions regarding taking care of yourself, you reacted like a child would, by throwing a fit.” 

“I’m sorry.” She snuffed. 

“That won’t keep you from being punished.” He smiled sadly before pulling her face down over his lap. 

“What - ” 

“If you’re going to behave like a child, I’m going to punish you like you’re a child.” He brought his hand down in a sudden, hard slap. Her hands fisted in his cotton pajama pants. “Count.” 

“What?” She asked. His hand came down again. 

“Count.” 

“T-two.” She gasped. At ten she started crying. At twenty he stopped. 

“Twenty.” She sobbed, tears and snot mixing on her face. He stood and led her into the kitchen. 

“Can you tell me why you were punished in that manner, Ophelia?” He asked as he wiped her face off. 

“Because I behaved like a child and needed to be punished like a child.” She repeated his phrasing from earlier. He nodded and began dishing a new plate of stir fry. He guided her to the table. 

“Eat.” He told her gently. She picked up her silverware and began. Travis set about cleaning the mess from earlier, biting his lip to hide the fact he was decidedly _effected_ by their tryst.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback appreciated.


	11. Locus Minoris Resistentiae (A Place of Less Resistance)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little fluff in an angsty piece.

Travis couldn’t deny that Ophelia seemed more centered in the days following her punishment. She had been spinning out of control, barely sleeping or eating, her grades beginning to slip, acting edgy and snappish. The world she had carefully built was crashing down around her as she fell further and further. Now she was calm and once again sweet, if shy. She often fell asleep before him and relied on him to be woken up. When she started to seem edgy again he knew it was time to talk. 

They were reading in the living room when he decided to act. 

“Ophelia.” He called. She looked up from a tattered copy of _The Night Circus_ , her eyes taking a moment to snap from fantasy to reality. 

“Yes?” She asked, her voice distant. 

“Come here.” She stood, marking her place with the thin ribbon she always used. “Bring your book.” He smiled, as she went to set it down. She crossed the room tentatively, her bare feet stuttering across the wooden floor. She stood in front of him, fingering the hem of the oversized shirt she was wearing. 

“Yes?” She repeated, shifting her weight from foot to foot. He stood suddenly, invading her personal space. Rather than explain what he wanted he took her by the shoulders and spun her around before pressing lightly on her shoulder. She resisted a moment before dropping to her knees, eyes wide. He sat back down and picked up his book, spreading his legs so she could scoot back and lean against the couch. 

“Why?” She asked, voice soft. 

“Why what?” He started to run a hand through her hair, smiling when she leaned into it. 

“Why this? It’s embarrassing.” She protested, not pulling away. 

“What’s so embarrassing about me enjoying your proximity?” 

“You could enjoy my proximity from the couch.” She did pull away this time so she could turn to look at him. 

“So you don’t like the position I put you in?” 

“I don’t like the position, I don’t like that you put me in it, there’s a whole list.” She snapped. He started running his hand through her hair again. “And I don’t like you doing that! It makes me feel like a dog.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, exasperated. 

“Why should you get to choose how I sit or what I do?” She pushed, her tone challenging. 

“That’s part of how this type of relationship works Ophelia. I want you to be near me and to submit to me.” He told her calmly, running his hand through her hair again. She relaxed into his touch. 

“I - ” She spluttered. 

“Submitting isn’t weak Ophelia. It’s a sign of love and trust in a relationship. It isn’t a punishment and it isn’t embarrassing.” He bent down to whisper in her ear. “It’s wonderful and sexy, knowing you’ll do what I want of you. It makes me want you more.” The color rushed to her face. “Now read darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feedback welcome!


	12. Dulce et Utile (A Sweet and Useful Thing)

Heat came and went, four months after the last one. Like all other bonded couples they received a week off, time to recuperate and be prepared to face the world. Ophelia found herself wondering how it had come to this, how she had ended up playing Omega to someone like Travis; how someone like Travis had even become interested in her. How someone like Travis could bring her pleasure. She found herself wondering if she was falling in love, not with someone like Travis, but with Travis himself. 

  


Ophelia shimmied off the bed, surveying the wreck of the room. Travis blinked at her groggily. 

“What’re you doing?” He mumbled, eyes half opened. 

“Someone has to go get Nivial. I’m sure the neighbor is through with her after a week.” She replied, searching for clothes that were somewhat presentable. 

“Come back to bed. Ms. Foyle took her to my parents after the first day.” He blinked lazily. Ophelia felt her heart race. Nivial had been gone for four days without her knowing. Her baby was too far away for her to get to without help. 

“Your parents?” Ophelia stuttered out. 

“Come to bed darling. Heat is exhausting and you need your sleep.” Travis insisted again. Ophelia found herself obeying; crawling between the sheets and curling, feeling Travis spoon around her. She felt safe and well cared for, something she hadn’t felt in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, feed back appreciated.


	13. Gradibus Ascendimus (Ascending Gradually)

Ophelia’s hands ran nervously over the full skirt of her dress, her fingers lingering in the pleats. The severe gray color matched her eyes but the high waist and boat neck made it softer, more girly. Her feet clipped slowly in her heels, each step unsure. 

“You look beautiful.” Travis smiled, watching the dim light throw shadows on her collar bones. He held a thin box in his hands. Seeing her, he was suddenly unsure about his question. She was so strong, so brilliant, so independent, that he couldn’t imagine her saying yes. Silently he handed her the box. 

Her eyes went misty when she saw thin strip of black leather. A silver sun hung on the clasp. 

“Please.” Travis whispered, wrapping his arms around her from behind. “Please.” He repeated, like a prayer. Wordlessly she handed him the collar, moving her hair so he could fasten it. 

“It won’t be easy.” She told him. “I won’t be easy.” 

“I know.” He kissed her under the ear. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” His hand grabbed hers as they walked to the car. “Is your speech done?” He asked, watching her play with a folded piece of paper. 

“Yes.” She licked her lips nervously, smudging the glossy layer. His hand found her again as they drove to the school for the last time. 

  


There was a sudden intake of breath when Ophelia approached the podium, followed by the sound of hundreds of whispers. Students, parents, and teachers alike were amazed that this girl, this _omega_ was top of a class of over a thousand. 

“Excuse me.” Her voice came over the microphone clearly, startling people into silence. She began to unfold the papers that contained her speech. 

“Everyone grows up dreaming. To be a police officer, a ballerina, the president. Some little girls dream of being mothers, just like mommy. Some little boys dream of being businessmen in a suit and tie, like daddy. And some grow up dreaming of magic and superpowers.” Her hand wandered up to play with the charm on her neck before she forced it back down. 

“Some people get to live their dreams. Some people follow other paths, sometimes by choice and sometimes because they’re thrust on them.” Her mind drifted as she recited the words that had now become second nature to her. She skimmed her classmates, looking for – there he was, crying a little. 

“Most importantly,” she finished, “We find the things we never went looking for. We find what we thought we would never want and make it our own.” She locked eyes with him. “Travis, I love you.”


	14. Ab Hinc (From Here On)

Travis didn’t remember the rest of graduation. For him, the world might as well have stopped existing with those three words. _I love you_. She had never said them before. Not when they fucked, not when they cuddled, not when she held Nivial and kissed him hello or goodbye. He had told her, a thousand times, and always got the same little smile, a slight turning up of the lips that seemed to say ‘Rightly too’. 

  


“Did you mean it?” He asked her, as they drove home. Wordlessly she handed him the folded pieces of paper, worn as soft as cloth. He skimmed her light hand writing. At the bottom, there was no declaration of love. 

“I love you.” She repeated, pulling his head down so he could kiss her. 

  


That night they made love for the first time. They didn’t fuck like they did as they stumbled through heat, but went slowly – gently. Murmurs of ‘I love you’ and ‘please’ and ‘more’ littering the paths mouths traced down skin. In the end they slept wrapped around one another.


End file.
